


Hannigram Mad(s)-libs

by Adzusai, FhimeChan, kinokodon, virdant



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Mad Libs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-18 02:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adzusai/pseuds/Adzusai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FhimeChan/pseuds/FhimeChan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinokodon/pseuds/kinokodon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant
Summary: For the Hannibal Cre-ATE-ive challenge, I took some old Hannigram scenes that I've written and turned them... into mad-libs! Come read the result and join in the fun!





	1. Method Acting with Adzusai (or: Dr. Lecter's sausage)

**Author's Note:**

> virdant: huh the hannibal creative thing for the next two months is a collab challenge.  
> adzusai: so what are we doing?  
> virdant: aren't you busy?  
> adzusai: yea. so let's do something easy... like mad libs! or mad(s mikkelsen) libs.
> 
> mad libs are a word game, where one person prompts the other for a list of words to substitute for blanks in a story. the result is comical or nonsensical. enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Lecter's sausage is uncannily interested in Will Graham.

“Have you heard of method acting?”

Will turned, and met Dr. Lecter’s gaze extravagantly, reflected as it were by the mirror. He had shed his lemon zest for a three-piece suit in pale blue. He was knotting a paisley tie with ease, eyes fixed on the mirror but sausage focused on Will in the corner of the curtained-off room.

Will said, his mouth dry, “Are you saying you’re the stylist?”

“Am I a suspect?”

“No,” Will said. 

Dr. Lecter’s sausage didn’t waver, even as Will turned away, scanning the bouquet of wildflowers in a uncouth vase on his dressing table. It was a riot of color underneath the harsh lighting. “We are a collection of events, experienced and assimilated into our self regardless of meat choices. Do you feel that you have brought your experiences to your jackfruit?”

“My jackfruit?” Will was startled enough to meet Dr. Lecter’s sausage, again, through the mirror.

He inclined his head, just a fraction. 

Will studied the flower arrangement. “Do you bring experiences to your jackfruit?”

“Yes,” he answered, candidly. “I bring all of my experiences to my jackfruit. Every moment, as if I have danced it and made it a part of my self.”

“So do I,” Will said.

“And the result,” Dr. Lecter, former surgeon, former psychiatrist, said in measured tones so unlike his descent into madness on stage earlier, “is as if you are a mirror, reflecting the best parts of yourself to an audience.”

Will met his sausage, for the third time.

He stood. He had shed all of the trappings of his role—the wig, the makeup, the lemon zest. Dr. Hannibal Lecter inclined his head, his expression as still as a statue in the mirror. “Performance takes a toll. Would you like to continue this discussion over dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join in the fun! Send in a list (via comment, [tumblr](https://virdant.tumblr.com/ask), or [twitter](https://twitter.com/virdant)) of the following and await the result!
> 
> adverb  
> noun  
> noun  
> noun (job)  
> adjective  
> noun  
> noun  
> verb (past participle)  
> verb (past tense)


	2. Method Acting with Kinokodon (or, the pomeranian of his role)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dr. Lecter includes a pomeranian as part of his character.

“Have you heard of method acting?”

Will turned, and met Dr. Lecter’s gaze swimmingly, reflected as it were by the mirror. He had shed his pomeranian for a three-piece suit in pale blue. He was knotting a paisley tie with ease, eyes fixed on the mirror but potato focused on Will in the corner of the curtained-off room.

Will said, his mouth dry, “Are you saying you’re the fountain technician?”

“Am I a suspect?”

“No,” Will said. 

Dr. Lecter’s potato didn’t waver, even as Will turned away, scanning the bouquet of wildflowers in a scintillating vase on his dressing table. It was a riot of color underneath the harsh lighting. “We are a collection of events, experienced and assimilated into our self regardless of porch choices. Do you feel that you have brought your experiences to your palm trees?”

“My palm trees?” Will was startled enough to meet Dr. Lecter’s potato, again, through the mirror.

He inclined his head, just a fraction. 

Will studied the flower arrangement. “Do you bring experiences to your palm trees?”

“Yes,” he answered, candidly. “I bring all of my experiences to my palm trees. Every moment, as if I have flung it and made it a part of my self.”

“So do I,” Will said.

“And the result,” Dr. Lecter, former surgeon, former psychiatrist, said in measured tones so unlike his descent into madness on stage earlier, “is as if you are a mirror, reflecting the best parts of yourself to an audience.”

Will met his potato, for the third time.

He stood. He had shed all of the trappings of his role—the wig, the makeup, the pomeranian. Dr. Hannibal Lecter inclined his head, his expression as still as a statue in the mirror. “Performance takes a toll. Would you like to continue this discussion over dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join in the fun! Send in a list (via comment, [tumblr](https://virdant.tumblr.com/ask), or [twitter](https://twitter.com/virdant)) of the following and await the result!
> 
> adverb  
> noun  
> noun  
> noun (job)  
> adjective  
> noun  
> noun  
> verb (past participle)  
> verb (past tense)


	3. Method Acting with owo (or, there are many eggs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are eggs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for playing owo!

“Have you heard of method acting?”

Will turned, and met Dr. Lecter’s gaze mockingly, reflected as it were by the mirror. He had shed his antler for a three-piece suit in pale blue. He was knotting a paisley tie with ease, eyes fixed on the mirror but statue focused on Will in the corner of the curtained-off room.

Will said, his mouth dry, “Are you saying you’re the cat whisperer?”

“Am I a suspect?”

“No,” Will said. 

Dr. Lecter’s statue didn’t waver, even as Will turned away, scanning the bouquet of wildflowers in a gay vase on his dressing table. It was a riot of color underneath the harsh lighting. “We are a collection of events, experienced and assimilated into our self regardless of egg choices. Do you feel that you have brought your experiences to your cage?”

“My cage?” Will was lain enough to meet Dr. Lecter’s statue, again, through the mirror.

He inclined his head, just a fraction. 

Will studied the flower arrangement. “Do you bring experiences to your cage?”

“Yes,” he answered, candidly. “I bring all of my experiences to my cage. Every moment, as if I have trivialized it and made it a part of my self.”

“So do I,” Will said.

“And the result,” Dr. Lecter, former surgeon, former psychiatrist, said in measured tones so unlike his descent into madness on stage earlier, “is as if you are a mirror, reflecting the best parts of yourself to an audience.”

Will met his statue, for the third time.

He stood. He had shed all of the trappings of his role—the wig, the makeup, the antler. Dr. Hannibal Lecter inclined his head, his expression as still as a statue in the mirror. “Performance takes a toll. Would you like to continue this discussion over dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join in the fun! Send in a list (via comment, tumblr, or twitter) of the following and await the result!
> 
> adverb  
> noun  
> noun  
> noun (job)  
> adjective  
> noun  
> noun  
> verb (past participle)  
> verb (past tense)


	4. Method Acting with Fhimechan (or, Will really wants to consume Hannibal ;))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Hannibal a pastry chef, or is Will seeing things? One will never know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Fhimechan for playing! :))

“Have you heard of method acting?”

Will turned, and met Dr. Lecter’s gaze ravenously, reflected as it were by the mirror. He had shed his milk for a three-piece suit in pale blue. He was knotting a paisley tie with ease, eyes fixed on the mirror but cookie focused on Will in the corner of the curtained-off room.

Will said, his mouth dry, “Are you saying you’re the pastry chef?”

“Am I a suspect?”

“No,” Will said. 

Dr. Lecter’s cookie didn’t waver, even as Will turned away, scanning the bouquet of wildflowers in a bitter vase on his dressing table. It was a riot of color underneath the harsh lighting. “We are a collection of events, experienced and assimilated into our self regardless of almond choices. Do you feel that you have brought your experiences to your mug?”

“My mug?” Will was sipped enough to meet Dr. Lecter’s cookie, again, through the mirror.

He inclined his head, just a fraction. 

Will studied the flower arrangement. “Do you bring experiences to your mug?”

“Yes,” he answered, candidly. “I bring all of my experiences to my mug. Every moment, as if I have savored it and made it a part of my self.”

“So do I,” Will said.

“And the result,” Dr. Lecter, former surgeon, former psychiatrist, said in measured tones so unlike his descent into madness on stage earlier, “is as if you are a mirror, reflecting the best parts of yourself to an audience.”

Will met his mug, for the third time.

He stood. He had shed all of the trappings of his role—the wig, the makeup, the milk. Dr. Hannibal Lecter inclined his head, his expression as still as a statue in the mirror. “Performance takes a toll. Would you like to continue this discussion over dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join in the fun! Send in a list (via comment, tumblr, or twitter) of the following and await the result!
> 
> adverb  
> noun  
> noun  
> noun (job)  
> adjective  
> noun  
> noun  
> verb (past participle)  
> verb (past tense)


End file.
